


Marichat week

by orphan_account



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Marichat, these kids will me the death of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tales of a stray and a girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secret Dating

Alya can tease all she wants, Marinette _does not_ have a secret lover.

Well. Not really. It’s complicated.

“Secret Dating” implies two things: secret, and dating. Is her relationship with Chat Noir a secret?

Well. Yes. 

He’s a superhero. She is (to his knowledge) a random, normal, powerless citizen. The consequences of people learning about their sorta-kinda-friendship would be disastrous- ‘harassed by paparazzi’ and ‘become Hawk Moth’s main target’ level of disastrous.

That _might_ be bad.

So, secret? Check.

Dating?

Chat is a friend. He comes check up on her multiple times a week and reach out for her whenever he’s feeling down and Ladybug (she’d snicker at the irony) isn’t an option. He tells her puns and stories and she feeds him croissants and lets him watch her designs.

Sometimes, they play video games or marathon movies for hours until sleep cal for them.

(If she were stretching it, she would call these moments ‘dates’.)

Sometimes, he accepts to model for her. Be it for a jacket, a dress, a hat, he’s always happy to help- his own inputs even prove useful at times.

(Sometimes, her gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on his arms and chest. He winks and flexes when he notices. She’d be embarrassed if it didn’t make her laugh.)

Sometimes, they lay down on the bed and talk about their crushes. Neither mention any name, just talk about how brave or kind or generous they are.

(Sometimes, they make out on that same bed. ‘For practice’, they said, at first. ‘Just this once.’ they added later.

They don’t bother with excuses anymore.)

So, dating? They joke together, they play together, they hold each other hands, they kiss each others. Are they dating?

She wants to say yes. (Things change; feelings too.)

She really can’t. (Some never do, though.)

(Ain’t I right?)

**(YOU FILTHY LIAR.)**


	2. Cat Costume

No

She didn’t

_No_

_He can’t believe_

“So, what do you think?” asks Marinette with a twirl and a smile wide enough to reach her ears.

Marinette, who is wearing a perfect replica of his own costume.

Suddenly, so many things make sense; her insistence on him modeling new clothes (modeling, ha! Oggling his suit and its details, he’d bet.) the sudden appearance of leather among her fabrics, her random and irritated remarks on how “Chat Noir is an actual fashion disaster” and “why is your tail a belt anyway” and “what even are your ears”.

What a sneaky, clever, amazing girl His Princess is.

Not that he tells her. He’s too busy gaping to string together a coherent sentence.

“You- how-why-?”

She looks so smug and proud- she’s not His Lady, but his stomach bubbles all the same at her face.

“Tomorrow is some kind of a ‘dress as your hero’ day at school.” (He knows. Finding a Ladybug costume his size had been a nightmare.) “And I thought, why not go as you? Your costume _was_ pretty fun to make. Lot of details.”

(And he does not know and she will not say, but she’s growing tired of Chat Noir being thrown under the bus- he and Ladybug are a team. He deserves some attention, too.)

“So am I your hero, Princess?” he purrs, grinning (he wants to hug her so hard)

She rolls her eyes. “Your ego is bigger than the Eiffel tower and your puns are awful, but I _guess_ you are kind of cool.” She teases.

(If the next day Adrien can’t stop smiling, nobody can tear why out of him.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Lust**

Marinette herself doesn’t know when did she cross the line between admiring her partner’s aesthetic and imagining his head between her legs.

**Wrath**

She is absolutely _merciless_ ; teeth tugging on his lips, nails scratching in vain his suit, hips grinding on his. 

“Don’t you ever do that again.” she growls low in his ear. She’s pissed, and she’ll make sure he knows _exactly_ to what extent.

**Pride**

Chat Noir may save Paris on a daily basis, but he rarely feels more proud of himself than when her thighs crush the side of his head and her muffled moans fill the air.

**Sloth**

As much as he loves to give, he has to admit that just laying back and letting her do all the work is nice too.

**Greed**

He can’t get enough of her; her scent, her taste, her voice, her everything. His face alone is out of the suit, sadly. Leather stands between him and her everywhere else.

~~He makes good use of this small space.  
~~

**Envy**

He is not jealous. No. Really. So what if boys seem obsessed in touching her shoulders these days? He would have left that hickey anyway. And that one too. And that other one.

**Gluttony**

Chat Noir loves all of Tom’s Dupain-Cheng products dearly; his croissants are wonderful, his pains au chocolat breathtaking, his millefeuilles heaven. Still, his personal favorite is the much sweeter one of a kind you can find above the bakery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ye this chapter is the only reason why this is rated M


	4. Kitten

There are no grand gestures, no getting on his knees, no overdone flirting. Just a stiff boy on her balcony with nervousness written all over his face.

“Marinette, will you carry my kitten?”

There’s a beat.

Two.

Three.

Marinette blinks. Slowly.

“…Say that again?”

“Will you-” Chat’s hand trails to his pocket, opening it and pulling out of it- “-carry my kitten?”

Marinette opens her mouth. Closes it. Stares.

Stares at the very fluffy and _very literal_ kitten in her partner’s hands.

“Oh. That kind of kitten. I thought you meant-”

“Yeah I know.” He grins wide -what a jerk. “I did it on purpose.”

(She still adopts the kitten.)


	5. Trust me

The thing with Marinette is, she’s a sweet girl. Really. She is. She’s the kindest and nicest person Adrien knows.

She also, as _Chat_ discovered it, has no problems doing rather _questionable_ things if she thinks it’s for the greater good. Be it lying, manipulating, (stealing even, she told him once.)all means are good to reach an end.

He knows that, and that’s why he isn’t surprised when she hooks her arms under his armpits and shoves him in her locker.

“Don’t do it” his voice is raspy, hoarse, from the gases he’d inhaled earlier.His limbs are weak; every breathe he tales burns through his lungs like fire. Talking is even worse. Still, he tries, since he can’t seem to gather enough strength to push her away.  “I can still fight; **trust me** , I can do this! Don’t do this. Let me go!”

**“You can’t even fight me!”**

It hurts; it hurts him, the bitter taste of betrayal. It hurts her, he can see it in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Chat.” And she slams the door shut.

(Thankfully, Ladybug shows up in time to defeat the weakened akuma; Chat doesn’t manage to get out of the locker by himself.)

(Marinette doesn’t get any visits from her stray for a long while.)


	6. Don't touch her!!

Marinette is going to die.

It’s one of these cold, hard truth; Britain has awful food, Chloe’s dad is the mayor of Paris, there’s a giant boulder flying right toward her, and she is going to die.

For a second, it’s like time had stopped. Her body doesn’t bulge. The boulder gets closer, inch by inch. Honks and screams fill the air around her like background noise.

She is going to die.

Exactly one thing goes through her mind during that small window of time. 

I hate winter.

(It’s almost funny; had it happened literally any other time, she’d already be Ladybug at this point. But no, it had to happen in winter, when the ladybug urges kick in and she’s just _so slow_. It’s almost funny. She’s going to die.)

The boulder gets even closer. Seconds tick in. Someone screams. Marinette isn’t a religious person, but she mouths a quick prayer anyway (to God, her ancestors, whoever might hear) for her family to be safe and Tikki to find a better Ladybug-

Air is suddenly knocked out of her lungs as she is tackled to the ground, away from the boulder’s path.

Marinette knows only one person who could have been fast enough to do that.

“DON’T TOUCH HER!”

*  
  
(Ladybug thanks him, later. She doesn’t precise that she doesn’t mean it only for the help against the akuma.)


	7. Purring

It’s not perfect. Far from it. 

His father is still painfully absent. His hair is still a mess. His eyes are still red and puffy from crying. 

Yet, now that all the pains and hurt jad been ranted and cried away, he feels… Content. Here, on Marinette’s laps, her hands rubbing his back, netflix running on her computer and ice cream in his hands, he feels content. 

His life isn’t perfect, he thinks, but as long as Marinette is still in it, it really can’t be downright _bad._

He nuzzles her neck, and a purr rolls between them. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hate this fic with a burning passion only matched by the flames of hell. It's cliché, it's ooc, and it's everything I've grown to hate about marichat. This fic is dead to me.
> 
> However, if you enjoyed this fic in any way, know that I am glad it could at least bring this to you.


End file.
